


Fencing

by AppleJ



Category: X-Men, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Affectionate antagonism, Angst, Comedy, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Innuendo, Mild Language, One Shot, POV First Person, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 01:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleJ/pseuds/AppleJ
Summary: Fencing:1: the art or practice of attack and defense2: a barrier intended to prevent escape or intrusion or to mark a boundary3. buying or selling of stolen goodsRogue learns a new skill from recent team addition, Gambit, while they play a duel of sorts. Using words to attack and defend their vulnerabilities, putting up boundaries, bartering and stealing for information about each other.





	Fencing

**Author's Note:**

> A short little WIP inspired by Mr.&Mrs.X. Rogue has picked up a few skills from Gambit after all their years together (i.e. the lock picking, the slight of hand), which is very much a part of my head cannon for them and made me super happy to see in print! 
> 
> This is just a short and fun little exchange I cooked up for them about her learning one of those skills. I would probably place it happening somewhere back in the early issues of X-Men, before the basketball game or even the picnic. This is mostly just dialogue and still a bit rough around the edges - I didn't even have anyone beta it. So keep the expectations low! I might keep working it around some more. I wanted to try writing just from Rogue's perspective this time. Rated T for some cussing and innuendo.

FENCING

"Careful now … ya gonna break it." 

"Ah am NOT." I grit my teeth in annoyance, still fiddling around with the short length of wire between my fingers. I'm trying to make something happen within the mechanism of this thick as fuck metal bracelet stuck round my wrist. How the hell did I let him talk me into this?

He's hovering over my shoulder still. So close.

"This is a delicate business, chère. Can't just power ya way through. Takes patience, an' precision. Have to feel your way … tease it out slowly. 'S like a dance." He tells me all smarmy and smug. "Here. Lemme show you."

His hand is on mine before I can object and I suck in my breath. Even if it's safe, even if I have gloves on … I never let anyone get this close. It's terrifying… and exhilarating.

He's maneuvering my fingers ever so delicately beneath his to manipulate the pick. The warmth and pressure of his skin on the other side of the fabric is all I can focus on.

"Feel dat?" he asks as something in the cuff shifts under our fingers.

Yeah, I feel it alright.

His breath is in my hair, tickling my ear as he asks this question. He's so close now. I can smell the hints of sweat and cigarette smoke and cologne and something that's just uniquely him wafting over me. Why I find it so intoxicating … I don't even want to begin analyzing that right now.

"Ummm …" I can't concentrate, let alone respond. My heart is beating like a jack hammer.

" … probably would be easier ta feel if you take your gloves off." he adds nonchalantly as I turn my head to him and our eyes meet.

My hand jerks away and -

_*SNAP*_

"Dammit!" I hiss as the stupid thing breaks off in the lock. 

I pull away from him entirely.

"Enough." I yank my arms apart with a sharp jerk, easily breaking the length of chain between the cuffs. "Ah'm never gonna use this anyway."

I'm ready to storm off ... even if I still have these ridiculous metal bands clamped tightly around each wrist.

"Whoa, whoa … hold up. At least let me get dose off ya." he raises his hands palms out, trying to placate me.

I hesitate. I'm already feeling like an idiot and want nothing more than to escape the intensity of those eyes. But if I don't let him help me now, it's gonna be a bitch trying to smash and pry these off myself … or worse, I'll have to go beg Storm for help. Then I'd have to explain why in the hell I let Remy LeBeau handcuff me in the first place. I groan out a loud sigh and turn back to him, “Don’t you have a key?”

He just laughs at that.

_Hilarious_. I roll my eyes and stick out my wrist in irritated surrender.

The gentle way he takes and cradles my hand sets my pulse to racing again though. A heated blush is creeping up my neck already. I don't dare look him in the eyes again, so I watch him work instead. Those fingers are so light and nimble when he wants them to be. He carefully works out the broken bit of wire. 

Imagine how those fingers would feel on-

"Mebbe you don' think ya need ta to know dis sorta thing, chère. But if ya ever find y'self trapped in a situation where ya don't have your powers …" he starts to murmur absently as he works the lock with a new pick.

Lose my powers? That gets my attention and I stare at him with narrowed eyes. _Has he thought about that?_ Or he knows something. Surely no one told him about Genosha?

"Did someone say _somethin_'?" I demand.

He looks up at me, puzzled and cocks his head. "Non … just … ya never know, eh?"

God, those eyes … and he seems like he's being honest right now … for once. Maybe he _doesn’t_ know.

The first cuff drops away.

He releases my hand and gestures for the other one. I don't offer it right away, but take a deep breath and consider him a moment.

"Maybe … maybe Ah can try it again?" I ask, feeling a mite embarrassed over my impatience earlier.

He chuckles lightly, flashing me a genuine smile - not his usual sultry, suggestive smirk. That’s something new.

Then he hands me the lock pick and comes to stand over my shoulder again. I swallow hard and take a deep breath. Focus girl.

"Alright … so like b'fore ya gonna turn it counterclockwise ever so gently. Bein' gentle and takin' it slow, dat's important. Feel for when ya just catch th' first lock bar. Might help if you close your eyes … an' jus' feel for it." He instructs in that low, rumbly voice.

I do as he says, best as I can manage, though I can't help wondering if we're still talking about picking locks here or something else entirely.

As I carefully turn the pick again I feel it catch against something and press steadily, patiently against the resistance. It gives all at once and I hear something click. I open my eyes with a big stupid triumphant grin.

"Bon. You're a natural, chere."

He's giving me that smile again, the one that's real, and his eyes are burning bright like coals in a stove. _Jesus_. I feel my cheeks go red.

"Now, turn it clockwise. Dis latch could be a might trickier." He says.

I'm not quite feeling the catch on this side, but I concentrate. I've gotta be -

"So close, chère. Here."

His hand is on mine again guiding my fingers and I don't flinch away this time. Something slides into place, the lock clicks again and this time the cuff drops off, but he doesn't take his hand away from mine immediately like before. He lingers a moment and his fingers brush my knuckles ever so softly as he releases my hand.

"Not bad for ya first time." he says. "Still got a lot to learn … nothing I couldn't teach you. If dat's something you want."

Feels like he's offering a lot more than lock picking lessons. Whatever it is, I don't want to say no to it and that scares me more than anything. I let out a slow breath and step a pace away, trying to keep my cool. I need to reclaim some ground here.

"Ah only agreed to let you pay me back for covering for your ass yesterday when you disappeared. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind.” I give him my best scowl, and parry with, "How many gals you taught before me, anyhow?"

He's leaning back against the workbench now all nonchalant again, grinning that mischievous grin, and pulling out a cigarette, "Not so many as you might think."

I think it's a lot. But anything would be a lot compared to my nothing, wouldn't it? I frown. What am I hoping to accomplish by playing this game? Except maybe a broken heart. I change the subject.

"Hank will have your hide if he catches you smoking out here. Why don't you quit, anyway? Those things will be th' death of you." I chide him.

He ignores me and charges the end of the cig just enough to spark the paper. He regards me a moment while he pulls in a drag, then blows it out slowly saying, "We could die any time we go out there, chère. Livin' dangerously is just part of de game, no?"

He's not wrong.

"And when we don't die … what then? What happens if we live instead? _That_ would be an awful shitty way to go." I counter with a smirk, gesturing at the cigarette in his mouth. 

I'm not wrong either.

"Why so interested?" he returns, looking me up and down.

Shit. Why does he have to look at me like that? I’m not even wearing anything special. Just the usual green and gold, covered head to toe as usual.

"Didn't say I was." I return with every ounce of sass I can muster, crossing my arms over my chest self-consciously.

"If you say so, chère." He slides out that little sarcastic trump card with a grin and I'd be hard pressed to argue against it one way or another.

He takes another long drag. We both regard each other silently.

Then he smirks to himself laying out some fresh bait, "… mebbe I _would_ quit, if someone gave me a good reason, somethin' ta live for."

He's looking right into my eyes again, laying out a challenge. Damn it.

" … Never too late to turn over a new leaf, start a new life." I stammer out, averting my gaze from his and pivoting away to take this discussion another direction entirely. "Ah should know."

"Ain't that what I'm already doin' here at Xavier's?" he asks pointedly.

"Is it?" I respond with a little too much earnestness.

He only looks away and shrugs, blowing out some more smoke.

"Ya ever gonna tell me exactly what it was you were up to yesterday that I covered for?" I ask.

That was why I really agreed to meet him out here in the garage … alone … in the first place. The reason I covered for him to begin with. For the chance to unravel some of the mystery of this man, to have a piece of him no one else here does. Not even Ororo.

Weird, I know. But a gal gets her kicks where she can.

He weighs my question several moments.

"Tell ya what, you agree to 'nother of my lessons and perhaps I'll tell you ‘bout it." he proposes.

"A lesson AND a truth? Seems like Ah'm getting the better end of this bargain." I note suspiciously, but my interest is piqued and he knows it.

"There IS a catch. You gotta tell me somethin' about yourself as well." he adds.

I bite my lip. "Like what?"

"Whatever you want to tell."

He's being serious again.

I don’t want to tell him anything … and I want to tell him everything.

"Pity Ah don't have anything ta teach you instead." I muster wryly, though my mouth has gone a bit dry.

He tosses away the spent cigarette and cocks his head at me, "Hmmm … but I t'ink ya do."

I stare at him, my mouth half open to answer, but no sound comes out. I don't get it. This is more than just flirting. He really thinks I have something to offer him. What could that possibly be, when I know for a fact he could get much more from literally anyone else?

** _*Bbbwwwhhhaaa!!! Bbbwwwhhhaaa!!! Bbbwwwhhaa!!!*_ **

Saved by the bell. Or rather the alarm.

"Shit! We better hightail it back to the mansion." I yell over the noise, already lifting off to fly my ass right on out of whatever this is turning into.

"Rogue! Wait!" he shouts after me, exiting the garage several paces behind.

I pause several feet off the ground and glance over my shoulder. "What?"

"Is it a deal or not?" 

He's not smiling at all. He really means it. Fuck. If I say no then he wins this battle of wits, knows he can push my buttons and I get nothing on him. I say yes … then this twisted game continues. And I still don't understand what the stakes even are. But I do know that I hate to lose and that this is exciting in a way I've never experienced before.

" … alright." I answer as coolly as possible and then zoom off before he can say another word.

What might come of this, only time will tell.

For now … I guess I'll be learning to pick locks or something, like some kind of proper thief. Ha, that’s a laugh. If only this guy understood just what kind of a thief I already am. 

And what is it he thinks I can teach him? Gonna have to ponder on that one later. For now, we’re back in the fray again.


End file.
